Rest in Peace and Meditative Power Brother
(1929-2023)
Where you been Joe?
The cars all left the campus lined up
in the single file line that follows a
casket in a Cadillac.
I begged off the process; I wondered
if he knew I was not there. I just rode
BART home alone.
The photographs sent around showed
the throng of souls seeing a good soul
buried into the ground.
I did not want to see the finality of it
all. Some departures are harder to
accept than others.
Seeing the casket lowered and the
shovels of soil foisted down upon
casket wooden crown,
Meant saying fare well and finality.
A sendoff I was not yet willing
to acknowledge or make.
Now one month past, I walk alone
to the still fresh unmarked grave site
to pay overdue respect.
A walk up from the Chapel at Mount
La Salle was lined with shade trees
and the stations of the cross.
The stations created a meditation on
the uphill trek. In life, all carry heavy
crosses and heal scars.
Brother Camillus was a blessed teacher
who helped us with the burdens in our
youth with gentle love.
Upon reaching the graveyard the verdant
Beauty; the blue sky created a meadow
of dedication and love.
On the green grass hillside where all the head-
stones extoll the lives of those whose bodies
rest in a peace well-earned,
Rested a single bird feather as If Brother
was guiding my path with a simple
hello from his heavenly perch.
As my steps searched for his grave, I felt
a light breeze cooling the noon day sun.
A respite from above.
The mystics came into my thoughts as I
danced among the holy souls. A reverie
of prayer and song.
Camilo’s voice played aloud as I meditated
to his voice coming from my phone. He
was alive and I was calmed.
When his lesson reached its counting back
to the present time, I heard him loud
and clear, “Where you been Joe?”
The majestic towering trees brushed by
a flowing breeze, and the blue sky above
an ocean of heavenly peace.
Never a good-bye to be as the visit made
clear. If I miss him, I simply have to pray
and he will be there again.
Brother's Final Blessing
We could never leave his side without a
blessing to guide our steps through
life.
So when I asked for a blessing before
I left his bedside, he gathered strength
again.
And let you be blessed forever more and
if life throws you aside, ask to be blessed
again.
Then he wasn’t
Many moments have come and gone.
The spring flowers have wilted.
Drought is over but the yellow
grass still begs for water.
I heard him near the gated fence.
“Look at how the flowers are
lasting this year. Let me stay
until they are no more.”
Time out of mind the embarkation
for the passage but nothing can
secure the farewell if rose petals
are still blooming.
Vineyard trellises, like loose rope
artfully scattered, loop around the
undulating hills, his eyes holding
them joyfully close.
There is a church and there is a
steeple but greater still is the
bounty of God’s wonderous
evergreen creations.
“Let me breath it all in just once
more. Let me leave you just as
the summer starts. Have them
play mariachi at dawn.”
Then he wasn’t. I heard you say,
“I still feel him. If I can feel him
he remains alive.” And the breeze
played a lullaby.
Requiem for a brother
There is a glow, mystic and everlasting,
surrounding the spirit of the ones God
has chosen.
From the first time a prayer was said in
his catechism class he knew he’d found
his destiny.
Oh, dear brother, are you in the Bardo? Or
has God hurried you to the place of saints,
the divine?
While others prepared for a life of ambition
and material wealth, you prepared for a
life of poverty.
Oh, dear brother, when did you first see
that all that shines is not gold and that
prayer matters.
Taking your vows and evolving from Tony
to Camillus, you became a teacher, mentor,
loving brother.
Oh, dear brother, can you prophesize my
future? Why can you see what I cannot
yet dream?
You became a steward of the children in
your care, teaching, coaching, setting
goals to be met.
Oh, dear brother, how can you believe in
me more than I believe in myself? Why
me, brother?
Meditation and prayer: the two gifts that
underpinned every lesson. Patience and
quiet power.
Oh, dear brother, how my breath has
taken me to my soul! How I see when
the noise stops.
A lifetime of ninety-three years giving
you the time to do so much good in
this world.
Oh, dear brother, I will hear your words
forever. I will hold you in my heart each
day and hour.
Father, son, and holy spirit. Lead our
beloved brother into the waiting arms of
our Holy Mother.
Oh, dear brother, you gave us your peace
and now we honor you with the peace you
loving gave.
In the name of the Father, the Son, and
The Holy Spirit. Now and forever and
ever more.
The passing path: A meditation on Brother Camillus and Saint John of the Cross
Face taut with the pace of the passing.
each step a penitential sacrifice, as if his
life of service not enough.
Not enough for the moment when his
soul would reunite with his birthing
God, more was needed.
Saint John of the Cross weaved the union
of the soul and God into the mysticism and
culmination of a dark night.
Eyes walking the stations of the cross, his
asking for water to be brought to his lips,
an exhausted fall from grace.
They come to help him along. Their touch
and voices picking up his cross as he falls
into the slumber of saints.
“You will walk this path,” he said in a voice
trembling as strength wanes and the soul
emboldens for steps ahead.
Mystics prayed, wrote canticles and poems,
sharing the story of a soul returning to the
glory of being whole.
Ascent to Mount Carmel is the map, Living
Flame of Love is the respite of love, making
the dark night bright.
Oh, dear brother on the passing path, as
your soul ascends to its heavenly reward
may the mystical words guide.
Upon the flowery breast
Which I kept whole for
Himself alone
There he stayed sleeping
and I was caressing
him,
And the fanning of the
cedars made a breeze.
The breeze from the
Turret
While I was parting his locks
With his gentle hand He was
Wounding my neck and
Causing all my senses to be
Suspended
I remained myself and forgot
myself. My face reclined on the
lover.
All ceased and I abandoned myself.
Leaving my concern forgotten among
the lilies.
You dark night of the soul shall be
Illuminated soon. The passing path
shall lead to an open gate.
Follow the light: For Brother Camillus Chavez, teacher, mentor, seer.
Next to his bedside were the photos of the
two or three who had in the end been
the reason he lived as he did.
As the light calls and peace is made with
present time--no more appointments,
nothing left to fix or do--
he remembers when loyalty to oath was
tested, when he thought the temptation
too hard to hold off or fight,
and the resolve kept in the lock box of his
soul unlocked itself and reminded of the
faith supporting him this far
and then the light shone on his soul and
taking the weight of its desire to stay
welcomed him to waiting gates.
Something I saw
I saw the steps he took so often. A child left on
his door step, not abandoned, but sent to
become a dream unknown far from home.
I saw how he took fear and fluffed it up and
turned it inside out and seeded the cloud
of confidence the child would become.
I saw how he took doubt and questioned its
ungodly power through a faith practiced
on his knees in prayers for hours.
I saw how he lived a life of patience and calm,
teaching others how to tackle chaotic life with
breathes of healing meditative power.
I saw the yearlings he coached, coaxed, and
encouraged to become the adults who could
take his life lesson to many others.
I saw as he faced the all that befell him, death
included, strapping on his humble armor
to repent as his father called.
I will not see the gates of heaven open to
welcome this saint among us, but I saw
enough to know he will be there.